


Acorn Tree

by shinodasmile



Series: A Journey to The Heart [3]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Acorn Feels (Tolkien), Alternate Universe - Post-Battle of Five Armies, Battle of Five Armies - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Dwarf Courting, Fluff, Flustered Thorin, Gen, Happy, Happy Ending, Hobbit Courting, Love Confessions, Thorin is a Softie, Thorin visits the Shire, Time Skips, everything works out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-10
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 20:48:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29955666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinodasmile/pseuds/shinodasmile
Summary: After six years since the Battle of Five Armies, the now King of Erebor returns to the Shire to visit an old friend.
Relationships: Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield
Series: A Journey to The Heart [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2184999
Comments: 8
Kudos: 45





	Acorn Tree

**Author's Note:**

> Soooo, this is the last part I had planned for this little series, I hope you guys like it!!
> 
> Also huge thanks to all the kudos and comments, that’s AWESOME!!

Bilbo was at the market finishing up his task of buying the best fruits of that morning — apples, pears, passion-fruits and peaches, his basket was full. 

The short walk home was uneventful, however when he stepped foot in his front garden, fishing inside his pocket for his keys, he didn’t believe his eyes when he saw a dwarf standing on his front door, knocking; the very same dwarf he had fallen in love with when he had embarked on an unforgettable journey. 

He dropped his basket as his hands failed to stay firm, the newly-bought fruits squashing onto the stone path. The dwarf hadn’t noticed that Bilbo was behind him until he heard the squishy sounds, and turned. 

Not even if all the Valar had informed him beforehand what would be expecting him at his doorstep would he be ready. 

The Hobbit moved his mouth, urging his brain to formulate at least a single word, but he couldn’t, and as he stood there, the dwarf in front of him started to grow nervous, clenching and unclenching his fists. 

The silence was overwhelming, and Bilbo could barely stand it. He wanted to say many things, do many things, give the other at least a hug, but he seemed to be frozen on spot, in a haze, as distant memories fled behind his eyes. 

Meanwhile, the dwarf stood there, his hair gently floating with the morning breeze. He had been incredibly overwrought with the idea of finally visiting Bilbo. Balin had practically kicked him out of the palace in Erebor, claiming he should check on the Hobbit, and that he needed some time away from the duties of a King. 

After a lot of protesting, Thorin Oakenshield had finally given in, and travelled alone all the way to Bag End — much to Fili and Kili’s disappointment; the boys had been wanting to see ‘Mr. Boggins’ for ages. 

But now, he was doubting himself, asking why on earth was he standing in front of Bilbo Baggins, with a bag under his arm. 

Thorin was about to apologize for the intrusion and turn around when small hands clutched into fists started hitting his chest. 

The King took a step back reflectively, feeling the weak thumps against his broad chest. The punches didn’t hurt at all, they were more like gentle pats. However, what broke the dwarf’s heart was when the Halfling touched his forehead against his torso with a barely there whimper. 

Bilbo’s hands, that had been clutching on the King’s robes, let go, and wrapped themselves around his waist instead. “Thorin.” His voice was incredibly frail, and the dwarf gasped inaudibly before wrapping his own arms around the Hobbit, squeezing him for dear life. 

The feel, the warmth, the sentiment of that embrace was more than either of them could ever describe. It was otherworldly, full of sorrow, longing, anger, hurt. 

They stood there silently for minutes before Thorin finally uttered his Halfling’s name. “Bilbo.” The name slipped easily off his tongue, as if it was meant to be there all along. 

Bilbo had always been the most sensitive of the two, and when he pulled back, he quickly rubbed his teary eyes and put on a smile on his face. “Oh, sweet Yavanna, where are my manners!” As a respectable Hobbit, he should treat his visit to afternoon tea. “Come on in, Thorin.” A smile lingered on his lips as he breathed out the name of his loved one, the name that never left his mind. 

Thorin have him a quick grin, “what about the mess?” He teased the Hobbit, raising one eyebrow and pointing at the smashed fruits on the ground. 

Bilbo promptly rolled his eyes. “I’ll deal with that later. Come on in, I promised the Company that if any of you would ever happen to come by Bag End, I would serve you tea.” He grinned mischievously. “Even if the visitor were to be you, Thorin Oakenshield.” 

The King frowned and opened his mouth. “What’s that supposed to mean, Master Burglar?” He smiled amusedly. 

“Oh, don’t call me that. I’m not your burglar anymore, haven’t been for years.” Bilbo gave him a playful yet warning glance. “Today we rejoice as old friends.” The Hobbit had a smile on his face, but his eyes seemed sad. 

Thorin’s mind immediately started to work against him, as it always did, and unfortunate thoughts started to make their way into his brain. What they had had all those years ago was merely... a kiss, a desperate kiss influenced by an almost tragedy. It meant the world to him, but to Bilbo, apparently it didn’t. 

He forced a smile and entered either way, placing his coat and weapons by the door as Bilbo rushed into the kitchen to grab the teapot, teacups and some bread and cake. 

In a few minutes, everything was ready, and Bilbo sat himself down on the table, in front of Thorin. 

The moment their eyes crossed, Bilbo’s throat seemed to have gone dry, and he desperately needed a drink. Thorin was staring at him, with his neutral face that was oh so hard to read, and the Hobbit could not tell if he was mad, upset, or just brooding. 

“Thorin.” Bilbo’s voice rung sweetly in the dwarf’s ear. Upon not knowing how to voice the turmoil that was inside him, he asked, “how are the others? Is everyone good? Healthy?”

Oakenshield smiled faintly, that small smile that masked his unhealed wounds, “They are well, indeed. Fili and Kili wanted to have come with me, but I had them stay back.” 

Bilbo chuckled at the thought of the two brothers whining at their uncle. “I miss those two twits. Their pranks and jokes.” The Halfling laughed loudly as he reminisced, a warm sound to Thorin’s ears. 

“Bofur sent his regards, and promised to visit some time soon.” Thorin continued, refusing to let silence occupy that room again. “Bombur misses your cheese.” He snorted, and Bilbo too. 

“I see the kingdom is doing well, then?” The Hobbit smiled genuinely. “Erebor is back in all its glory and grace. You deserve that, Thorin, you always have.” He kept that smile and briefly pressed his hand against the dwarf’s one, that was resting on the table. 

“It’s good to see you, Bilbo.” Thorin finally said, giving the Hobbit a warm smile, the one he only had for Bilbo. 

Bilbo simply shook his head. Thorin frowned, his smile disappearing as uncertainty settled in. Was Bilbo mad at him? He had every right of being mad, thought the King, after all, it had been six years, and Thorin hadn’t even sent a letter.

But all those thoughts vanished when he felt the Hobbit’s hands clutch his own. 

“I’ve missed you, you big oaf!” Bilbo said, his voice was firm, but his eyes were down. “What took you so long?” He looked up, his eyes sad and longing, which made Thorin’s heart squirm. 

He was silent for a moment. “I... had things to attend. Being a King is no easy task.” He sighed, knowing that his excuse was awful. “But I... in fact I was scared.” He admitted, his hold on Bilbo lessening. 

“Scared of what?” The Hobbit looked more hurt than angry, and Thorin realized that that was even worse. 

The King sighed. “Of... us.” He whispered. “Of what it would mean if I came to see you, if we exchanged letters. Bilbo, I am a king, a Dwarven King. My people look up to me, and I have been so afraid of what it would mean to see you.” He admitted, and Bilbo squeezed his hands affectionately. 

“Why?” That was all the Hobbit could whisper at the moment. 

“Because we’re different Bilbo! We are both males, and you’re not a dwarf! My people would look down on you, they wouldn’t easily accept you, if they would at all, and I could never bear to see that!” He exclaimed, his voice coming out booming, louder than he had intended to. 

Bilbo only nodded, and let go of the dwarf’s hands. “Let’s eat some, shall we?” He smiled sweetly and poured them some tea. 

They drank it silently, both wishing for anything to happen, anything to take that dreadful silence away. Bilbo, as always, was the one to start conversation, asking about the kingdom, the dwarves, how life had been in those six years they’d been apart. 

It was hours before the Hobbit finally mustered the courage to face the elephant in the room. 

“So...?” It was awkward, and Bilbo’s stare didn’t make it any easier for Thorin. 

The King sighed deeply. “I’m sorry.” 

When Bilbo just raised one eyebrow in question, he continued, “for not contacting you earlier. For promising things I could not fulfill. For ever hurting you, Bilbo, I am so incredibly sorry. And I know that’s not enough, I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, and yet here I am, asking for it.” His eyes were full of sorrow, a look that Bilbo hated to see in his loved one’s eyes. 

Bilbo remained silent, letting the words sink in, thinking of all the promises they had made together. Thorin had promised to never leave him, and yet he had vanished for six years, and the Hobbit only knew of some of his doings because of Gandalf. And yet, the Halfling still wasn’t mad. Thorin had also promised he wouldn’t die on that day, and he truly hadn’t — for a miracle. 

But lastly, Thorin had promised that one day he would visit Bag End to see how big that acorn had grown — and as late as he was, he had come. That made Bilbo grin widely, biting his lower lip to keep himself from giggling. 

The King frowned deeply, not comprehending a thing, but then Bilbo jumped up and grabbed his hand, and dragged him all across the smial to the back garden. 

Thorin didn’t have time to ask any of the questions that were bubbling in his brain, for the sight of a huge, 9-feet-tall oaken tree had overrun his mind, leaving him speechless. He let out an amused gasp before smiling and looking down at the proud Hobbit. 

“It grew way taller than I expected.” Bilbo commented, looking at the orangish leaves that were slowly falling as autumn grew stronger with each passing day. “It reminds me of us.” He blurted out, one hand reaching carefully to touch the dwarf’s. 

Bilbo held Thorin’s hand loosely, a mere touch, waiting to see the King’s reaction; which was expected: he shied away and cleared his throat nervously. 

The Halfling sighed. “Thorin... I am not angry at you. I am not mad, I am not even resentful of anything. Those days... they were the best of my life, even when we skipped second breakfast,” that made them both chuckle. “Do you remember what I told you in that chamber, when you were nearly dying?” Bilbo’s voice got smaller and his face grew dark as he reminisced that damned day. 

Thorin gulped. He remembered it like it had happened the night before. He replayed the moment in his head as often as he could. “You told me that... you were in love with me.” He looked away from the tree and to the Hobbit, who was looking back at him with a soft grin. 

Bilbo nodded. “That hasn’t changed one bit, you insufferable dwarven king.” He rolled his eyes and held Thorin’s hand, this time not letting the dwarf shy away. “I don’t care how long it took for you to come here, Thorin. What I care about is that you are here now.” He said firmly. 

“Bilbo...” Thorin couldn’t complete the sentence, for the Halfling’s lips were on his in a second. Bilbo held Thorin’s face, feeling his beard prickle his skin and his hair fall over his shoulders, and Thorin held onto the Hobbit’s waist, holding him in place gently. 

They parted, both looking flushed, and Bilbo smirking. “I’ve waited far too long to do this, I’m not wasting any time no more!” He exclaimed, and suddenly the King of Erebor was on the grass, a Hobbit straddling his waist and kissing him intensely. However, he managed to slow down and switch the desperate kisses for long and slow ones. 

They laid there, kissing and holding each other under the starlight for a long while, until Bilbo rolled over and stayed beside Thorin, still holding his hand. 

After long minutes of silence, the Hobbit finally spoke up, blurting out the question that had been on his mind since the dwarf had first walked in. “Why did you come?” His voice came out in a whisper. 

Thorin froze, his muscles tense, before he smiled. There was no going back now. “I came... to take you to Erebor. I was hoping you’d come along and stay there with us. The Company misses you, and we are one member short, as you know.” He smiled, and turned his head to look at Bilbo’s side profile. 

The Halfling turned as well, playing with one of Thorin’s braids. “Do they, now?”

“Oh, yes! Balin sent me here claiming I needed to relax... can you imagine?” Thorin huffed, but stopped when he heard Bilbo’s giggles. 

“Oh yes, wise Balin. He is never wrong.” 

Thorin squinted his eyes. “And as I told you, Kili and Fili wanted to come, but I didn’t let them.” He commented. 

Bilbo immediately sat up, disappointed. “Why not, though? God I miss those two oafs!” He pouted playfully before laying down again. 

“If i had brought them, I would not be able to be doing this.” Thorin whispered, his voice deeper than Bilbo had ever heard. Suddenly, the King was on top of the Hobbit, supporting his weight on his arms, his hair falling around them like a dome. 

Bilbo blushed when the dwarf smirked and kissed his lips ever so tenderly, spreading small pecks all over his cheeks and then neck. 

Things were escalating quickly when Bilbo decided to stop, by holding Thorin’s arm. The King immediately stopped, a worried frown across his face. 

“Not here, not now. We will have time for that later.” Bilbo smiled, and the dwarf nodded, laying back where he had been. 

“Will you go with me?” Asked Thorin insecurely. His heart was racing more than when he had faced trolls, goblins and a damned dragon. 

Bilbo stayed silent. It was a tough question, and a decision he couldn’t make abruptly. He was about to say that when Thorin grabbed his hand and put it against his chest, right above his heart. 

“Do you feel this? The hammering is faster and more violent than when I faced the ire of Smaug.” He affirmed, his face serious and impassable. “You do this to me, Bilbo Baggins, and I came all the way to Bag End for you, and I am not leaving unless you come with me.” He said, and Bilbo would’ve laughed, had Thorin’s face not been completely serious with no tinge of a joke. 

The Hobbit shook his head. “You’re a king, you can’t just vanish like that and leave your people.” He tried to reason. 

“They’ll be in good hands. Fili is more than capable of handling Erebor without me.” He insisted, his eyes misty. 

Bilbo sighed. “You’re still the same old hard-headed, insufferable dwarf, are you not?” He chuckled slightly. “You know that’s not an easy decision... but I cannot lie to you about what my heart wants. And it craves for adventure, and for you.” He admitted with sad eyes. “It’s always been here, this feeling of not belonging here in the Shire anymore. Ever since I came back.”

Thorin sat up expectantly, bringing Bilbo with him. 

“But...” continued the Hobbit, “leaving again... the perils of a journey back to Erebor... the fear of not being accepted by your kin.” He sighed, shaking his head. “Those things haunt me. Don’t get me wrong, I do not doubt your love for a second, but I just... don’t know if I would ever belong elsewhere if not the Shire — even if it doesn’t feel like home anymore.” 

“I understand.” Thorin responded sadly, looking down. “I’ll stay the week, you can decide until I part.” He smiled bitterly, a part of his heart feeling betrayed. Why couldn’t things just be easier?  
••

As the days passed, the day of Thorin’s parting got closer. 

The time seemed to have passed way quicker, which Bilbo thought was incredibly unfair. Nonetheless, they had enjoyed their time together. 

The Hobbit made sure to cancel all his plans for that week — not that he had many; and spend all of his time with the dwarf. 

They had picked flowers together, bought fruits together, to make up for the ones that got squashed on the floor. But most of the time, they just stayed in together, either cuddling, talking, or making out. 

Howbeit, as much as the answer seemed clear to both of them, the decision was still weighing on Bilbo’s shoulders, and he avoided thinking about it for as long as he could. 

During the week, the couple finally started courting officially. Even if they had already confessed their love, and had intimate moments, courting was a fundamental thing in both cultures. 

For Thorin’s part, they had an entire day reserved for preparing Bilbo’s hair with oils, honey, vanilla, and other concoctions. Only on the early evening did Thorin actually braid Bilbo’s hair, and gave him a courting bead, crafted in copper by himself, with a tiny inscription in Khuzdul. _Amrâlimê._

For Hobbits, courting was just as important, although way simpler. Bilbo asked Thorin to go on a walk with him, and gifted him with a flower crown, made of blue and white statices. 

Between all the courting rituals, the two grew closer than ever, and they finally understood what it meant to be in love. Thorin knew he had found his One, and Bilbo knew he had found his true love. The intimacy of the courting had made them realize that, but the Halfling still had not given an answer. 

It was the dwarf’s last day in the Shire, and Thorin had grown uneasy. During the week he had hoped to win Bilbo’s yes, but the Hobbit had not mentioned the talk of Erebor at all. The King understood, Bilbo was afraid, he was too, but the lack of an answer was giving him a headache. 

The whole morning they stayed silent, ignoring the heavy atmosphere that had taken over the smial that day. Thorin couldn’t help but consider actually staying back for Bilbo. He could not leave him once again. 

“What are you thinking about?” Bilbo asked, wakening the dwarf from his trance of spiraling thoughts. 

Thorin looked blankly at the Halfling and blinked, “you know what I’m thinking about, Bilbo.” 

The Hobbit nodded. “We have begun our official courting. We have planted together, baked together... you have braided my hair.” He smiled, touching the short braid on the side of his face, adorned with the copper bead. “I have written you a poem. You have made me a flower crown.” Thorin blushed at that, remembering how awful his attempt had been, that the crown hadn’t even fit the Hobbit’s head — but Bilbo had only laughed and hung the gift on his wall with pride. 

“I love you, Thorin Oakenshield.” He half-groaned, holding the dwarf by his collar and kissing him with passion. “And I think it’s too late to turn back now. Be damned whoever does not accept our love. I will go to Erebor with you.” He had a faint blush tainting his cheeks. 

Thorin gave Bilbo a wide smile, the one reserved only for the Hobbit. He gently brushed the braid behind Bilbo’s ear and kissed his forehead. “I love you, too, Master Baggins.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thoughts? 
> 
> Also, should I write more on this little universe? I was thinking of writing their courting in detail and maybe even adding Frodo later on. What do you guys think?


End file.
